Chapter 41 Bechora
The nine of us stood in the clearing Caulder and I sometimes used for my private sessions.
It’d been a little over a week since Vallynn, Dante, and I had overheard the Dean’s conversation.
Caulder had made it a point to involve everyone in my training ever since.
And he’d increased the session to daily.
“Again,” Caulder said, his voice carrying easily across the clearing.
I exhaled slowly, flexing my fingers before wrapping them around Shadrie’s outstretched hand.
My breath began to frost over with each exhale as I drew on the copy of her ice magic filling my inner well.
Cold slid through me and spread to the ground beneath my feet.
Shadrie pulled her arm free and stepped back, waggling her fingers at me as Dante stepped into position.
“Attack,” Caulder barked out.
Dante didn’t hesitate. The moment Caulder’s command cut through the clearing, stone crawled over his skin in a ripple.
He moved fast. Faster than something made of living stone should be able to, closing the distance between us in two beats of his stone wings.
I reacted on instinct. Ice surged from my palms, racing toward him in jagged spikes meant to slow him down.
Dante didn’t stop, tucking one wing to tilt his body to the side while his opposite arm slammed down with enough force to crack through the ice.
“Too slow,” he grinned, swooping in to tap me on the nose.
I wrinkled my nose, jerking back a step as the ice sputtered out of existence. “Rude,” I muttered, even as I reset my stance.
Dante only smirked, already moving back into position, ready for the next round.
“Don’t just use the borrowed ability, Bechora. Use everything at your disposal,” Caulder called out, crossing his arms over his chest. I nodded in response. “Again.”
Dante’s smirk widened as he taunted me with a beckoning motion of his hand.
I scowled at him, stomping my foot on the ground in front of me and urging the frost at my feet to spread toward him, as I worked to draw on the shield ability I’d gained from Zypher.
Ice moved across the ground in a jagged line, freezing the blades of colorful grass in its path, as I urged it toward Dante.
The gargoyle tilted his head and tapped his foot as if he were impatiently waiting.
A snarl of irritation ripped from my lips, and the ice magic responded.
In the blink of an eye, it went from crawling across the ground to climbing up Dante’s feet and legs, freezing him in place.
Dante bent his knees and attempted to push off the ground, flapping his stone wings, but the ice held.
“Damn, Red,” he whistled. “Looks like you got me.”
A grin tugged at my lips, but Caulder spoke before I could respond.
“Don’t celebrate, yet,” he said, tone carrying a familiar edge that meant I was about to regret what came next. “Hold him.”
My focus snapped back into place. The ice around Dante creaked under the strain of his strength, fractures spider- webbing up his legs as he pushed against it.
I clenched my teeth, drawing more power from my inner well and willing it toward the ice to reinforce it.
And then shadows moved. They slipped across the ground like living things, silent and fast, curling around the ice holding Dante, before I even registered that Vallynn had joined the fray.
“You need to be on guard for multiple opponents,” Caulder said. “Anything less could get you killed.”
Dante lunged again, the shadows helping to shatter the ice I’d used to hold him in place.
I barely twisted out of the way as he reached toward me, intent on tapping my nose again.
The movement put me off balance, and I stumbled, falling to the ground hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.
I glared at my dragon as I picked myself up and dusted the dirt from my body. Caulder simply shook his head.
“Again,” he ordered, once I was back in position.
And again. And Again. Time blurred into a series of near misses and strained magic as I rotated through borrowing and working to control abilities from Shadrie, Vallynn, and Dante while fending off attacks.
We’d discovered early on that the only ability I was able to copy from Miles was his ability to see illusions for what they were.
Though I had to admit, I was a little disappointed that I couldn't copy his electricity. I’d have given almost anything to use it on Caulder at the end of my training sessions as revenge for how hard he pushed me.
I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
“Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” Caulder called out, finally.
I stayed where I was for a second, chest heaving, magic buzzing under my skin as if it didn’t quite know how to settle. Sweat dampened my hair to my temples despite the lingering chill from Shadrie’s ice magic.
Dante rolled his shoulders, stone receding as he glanced at me. “You’re improving.”
“Not fast enough,” I replied. “The trials start in three days, and I’m still not able to pull on abilities fast enough to actually defend myself properly.”
“You’re faster than you were,” Caulder said, stepping closer. “And you’re getting a handle on calling forth multiple abilities at once. That’s progress.”
“I think I liked it better when you were more focused on me maintaining control when I was distracted,” I huffed.
Caulder’s eyes heated, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “Those lessons were much more enjoyable, but these are still necessary.”
Shadrie made an exaggerated gagging sound. “Get a room!” she called out.
I rolled my eyes at her antics.
“We could,” Caulder rumbled.
I stepped into him, leaning my head against his chest and wrapping my arms around his waist. “As great as that sounds, I’m sore and exhausted, because somebody decided I needed all this extra, intense training every day,” I grumbled.
Caulder laughed, arms wrapping around me as he dropped his head to kiss the top of mine. “Rest,” he said after a moment, reluctantly releasing me and stepping back. “You’ll need it.”
“We got this,” Archer said, stepping up to tuck me to his side. “We’ll make sure she relaxes and gets some rest tonight.”
“Good,” Caulder nodded. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow, for a final training session before the trials.”
I groaned dramatically in response.
“Have you heard anything about what we will face this term?” Zypher asked, moving to stand at my other side.
“Not yet, but I suspect the solo trial for Second through Fourth Years will act as the way the teams are formed for those trials. That’s how it’s been since I accepted my position here, I don’t expect they will change it.”
“Great, so it’s all random chance who we work with,” I grumbled. “My luck, I’ll be stuck with Daena and Meara for the team trials, and have to worry about them trying to kill me on top of everything else.”
“There’s a book in the library that covers every past trial we could look at,” Miles suggested. “It won’t tell us what to expect, but there might be a pattern to it that could give us a leg up.”
“Fine,” I sighed. “But not tonight. I feel like I’m ready to collapse and sleep for an entire month.”
“We can meet tomorrow, during lunch, instead of going to the dining hall. And I can work on it more while you’re here training. It’s not like you actually need me here for these sessions,” Miles offered.
“Sounds like a solid plan to me,” Gabriel replied. “Archer and I will grab food for everyone and meet you there.”
I muttered my agreement, eyelids starting to droop as exhaustion began to really settle in. I barely noticed myself being lifted into Archer’s arms, as we moved from the clearing back toward the main campus.
Miles was already in the library, at the table he’d claimed for himself when I arrived. There were several books spread open across the table in front of him. My eyes scanned over the text briefly before I pulled out an empty chair across from him and sat down.
“Anything useful?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he sighed. “You can start with this one if you don’t mind. There are more books about past trials than I realized.”
I glanced down at the book he nudged toward me before pulling it closer. “Is that a bad thing? I mean, aside from us needing more time to get through them.”
“None of them actually say anything useful so far,” he muttered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Half of what I’ve gotten through sounds like vague warnings, and the rest are just dramatic retellings. I was hoping for something more straightforward than what I’ve found so far.”
“Sounds about right for this place,” I hummed, flipping the book open.
For a while, the only sound between us was the quiet rustle of pages turning and the occasional scratch of Miles’ pen as he jotted down notes.
The others filtered in, Gabriel and Archer arriving with food as promised, and Miles gave each of them a book to read through.
Most of what I skimmed was exactly what he’d said.
Wildly over-dramatized accounts of past trials that told me absolutely nothing about them.
I was just shutting the book he’d given me to read through when Miles let out a frustrated exhale.
“Okay, this one seems useless, too,” he said, gaze lifting to meet mine.
“It does reference another one, though, that sounds like it might be of use.” He glanced at the others still skimming through their books before looking back at me.
“Do you mind checking to see if you can find it on the shelves?”
“Sure,” I said, already pushing back from the table. “What’s the name of it, and where do I need to look?”
Miles glanced down at the open book in front of him again. “Uh, it’s called ‘The Trials of Blackthorne: An Annotated Record of Methods, Failures, and Survivors’ ,” he answered. “Best guess, it would be in the Historical Archives section.”
“Got it,” I nodded, stretching before I turned to make my way toward that section of the library.
I weaved through the tall shelves, fingers trailing lightly along book spines as I counted rows.
The deeper I moved, the quieter it got. Not exactly unusual for the library, but it still made the space feel heavier, somehow.
I turned the corner into an aisle and paused when I saw Mrs. Fiodh standing at the far end, with her back to me, and her hand resting on an open book.
“It’s being handled,” she murmured softly.
I stilled. There was nobody else there. A pause followed her words, and I risked creeping closer to try and take a peek at whatever book the usually sweet Brownie was holding in her hands.
Her head tilted like she was listening to something, just as I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be some sort of ledger.
“Yes,” she said again to the empty space in front of her. “I understand.”
My gaze dropped to the page as the hand she held pressed to it glowed slightly.
Names filled the ledger, rows and rows of them.
For a split second, I thought one of them looked familiar.
Then the ink shifted. I blinked, and the name was gone.
Mrs. Fiodh’s hand snapped the book shut, and she turned to place it back on the shelf, startling when she saw me standing behind her.
Something in her expression felt off, but it vanished before I could think anything of it, replaced by her usual warm smile.
“Oh dear,” she said brightly, her hand pressed to her chest as if to steady herself. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that. Is there something I can help you find?”
“Were you talking to someone?” I asked.
“Hmm?” she blinked, then gave a light laugh. “Oh, that. Just myself. Helps to pass the time.”
“Oh,” I replied, “that makes sense.”
Her eyes darted past me to the other end of the aisle, a smile still plastered to her face. “Was there something I could help you find? If not, I really should get back to work reshelving books, dear.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” I muttered. “I could actually use some help finding ‘The Trials of Blackthorne: An Annotated Record of Methods, Failures, and Survivors’ , if the library has a copy.”
“Of course, dear,” she beamed. “Follow me, it’s this way.”
She stepped around me, and I followed her as she led me to a row a few aisles over. She stopped halfway down the aisle, fluttering her wings until she hovered about halfway up the shelves, and pulled a thick, worn book down without hesitation.
“This should be the one you’re looking for,” she said, brushing a bit of invisible dust from the spine before holding it out to me.
I took it from her, glancing at the cover to see the title I’d asked for. “Perfect,” I said. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, dear.” Her smile stayed bright and easy. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will.”
She gave a small nod before fluttering back to the floor and heading back the way we came, humming softly to herself as she disappeared between the shelves.
I watched her go for a second, the faint echo of what I’d overheard brushing the edge of my thoughts.
I frowned slightly and then shook my head.
It made sense that she’d talk to herself with how quiet the library was, and I was exhausted enough that I likely just imagined what I thought I saw in the book she’d held.
With a small huff, I adjusted my grip on the book and shook my head.
No, the few encounters I’d had with Mrs. Fiodh, she’d been nothing but kind and helpful.
I’d never gotten the sense that something was off with her the way I had with the Dean.
Besides, the female was barely a foot and a half tall, no way she could be up to anything nefarious.
I chuckled at the ridiculous image in my head of the Brownie trying to carry a student much larger than herself across campus and made my way back to the table.
“Please tell me you found it,” Miles said the second I came into view.
I dropped the book on the table in front of him. “I did. Courtesy of Mrs. Fiodh.”
His eyes lit up as he immediately pulled it closer, flipping it open. “Finally. Something that might actually be useful.”
“Let’s hope,” I said, sliding back into my seat to start reading through another book from the unread stack.